


Just Crash, Fall Down

by corinneclara



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, F/F, Sort of College AU, idk i just really like it i guess, sorry if it sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 03:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6549511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinneclara/pseuds/corinneclara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A clexa one-shot full of tension and make-ups, college AU and pretty much a transcript of my daydreams honestly</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Crash, Fall Down

Clarke was tired. She was the kind of tired that seeps into your bones, grows and rots under your skin, the kind that doesn't come from lack of sleep.

Her gaze dropped to meet Lexa's from across the room, air thick with voices and music separating them like a curtain, while history and fear separated them like a titanium wall. They had been locked in this stand off for nearly an hour, ever since Lexa had walked in to see Clarke’s waist draped in Bellamy Blake’s arms, something that Clarke knew had made her sick to her stomach.

She wasn't sorry. Clarke was living, trying to make herself happy. And sure, maybe some of the shit she did was for the rush of recklessness, and she was probably drunk for at least half of it. But if that was as close to happy as she was going to come for a little while, she was going to take what she could get.

 

Lexa wasn't sorry. She knew that Clarke was just living her life, probably way happier without her there to wreck it all. But she was young and frustrated and feeling petty as all hell, and Raven was so pretty. She had such nice eyes, glimmering in the darkness of the house, and her laugh was contagious and she wanted to try out something new. Something that Lexa knew would piss off Clarke, who had a perfect view of them as Raven pulled her in for a deep, curious kiss.

She knew it meant nothing, that neither of them were planning to go further. But Lexa still felt just a bit triumphant as she resumed her previous staring match with Clarke, who had spent the past thirty minutes camped out on the couch across the room from her.

 

Clarke was sure steam was blowing out of her nose. Dancing with Bellamy had been a bit low, given his less-than-pleasant history with Lexa. But kissing Raven? Clarke's roommate, who was probably too drunk to remember not to make out with her roommate’s exes?

She blew some stray hair out of her eyes, studying the living room of the trashed frat house, searching for another target. If this was going to be a war between ex-girlfriends, Clarke was going to win.

 

_God she's adorable_ , Lexa thought as Clarke tried to blow some hair from her face. She was looking around now - _probably for Bellamy_ , a bitter voice taunted in the back of her mind. Lexa tried to ignore the accompanying stab of jealousy. That was a low move and she knew it.

She moved to take a sip of her drink, sighing when she found her cup empty. Beside her, Raven gave an apologetic shrug. “You're a pretty good kisser, and I got thirsty.”

“It's fine,” she said, lurching to her feet with a final glance in Clarke's direction; she still wasn't looking at her, watching something on the other side of the room. “I needed something a bit stronger anyway.”

Stumbling uncertainly into the kitchen and reaching past Murphy - who was acting as creepy and ominous as ever - for the vodka, Lexa almost didn't notice the flash of bright blonde that appeared over her shoulder.

 

Clarke held her breath, sudden fear knitting her stomach and freezing her in place. What if she tried, and Lexa didn't care? If their fight was too much, if they had hurt for too long to go back to whatever they were smiling through before? Steeling her nerves, forcing herself to breathe, Clarke reached out and placed a slightly trembling hand on her arm.

 

Lexa flinched as a pair of arms came around her, warm and familiar and absolutely terrifying. She choked on a breath and slowly put down her cup, turning to face a pair of crystal blue eyes.

“Hey.”

Clarke was quiet, such a stark contrast to the last time they spoke, almost two months ago. There was something in her voice that gave Lexa pause, but she wasn't entirely sure what. Maybe it was the shakiness, or the care with which it walked off her tongue, as if she wanted for the word to run but didn't want to scare her away.

“Hi.”

Lexa's response was far better than any of the ones Clarke had imagined, which mostly involved yelling and violent threats. It was so soft, nearly softer than she remembered her kiss being. She wanted to wrap herself in that miracle of a word, live in it forever.

“It's been a while.”

“I miss you.”

Lexa froze, her initial pause coming to a full on stop and rewind. Clarke’s voice echoed in her mind like the kind of record you had never expected to hear again and weren't sure if you liked the sound of anymore.

“What?” She was barely whispering, and didn't know if Clarke had heard. Part of her - a very loud part - didn't really want Clarke to have heard, didn't want to listen to her half-baked apologies and pleads and accusations. But Clarke spoke anyway, and that loud part of Lexa's mind went quiet in anticipation.

“I miss you,” Clarke repeated. “I was an asshole. So were you. We were both terrible, mostly to each other.”

“I remember,” Lexa said, sharper than she meant to. “I was kind of there.”

Clarke winced, but carried on. She was always the brave one, wasn't she? The stupidly brave one. “We were terrible, and we hurt each other, and I tried to put you through hell, and you tried to drag me through with you.”

They were very close now, Clarke's hands on the kitchen counter; they were balancing her, catching her fall where her equilibrium had failed. They were chest to chest, and Lexa didn't look all that angry yet, so she just kept talking. “I miss you. I don't miss all that shit, but I miss you, because we were happy. Before all of it, all the stuff that came along and ruined us. _We were happy_.”

And Lexa did remember that, just as clearly as she remembered the screaming and the sharpened words and the anger that slammed against the walls, threatened to knock them all down. There was sunlight filtering through the curtains, and speech as soft and careful as it was in that dark, loud kitchen. There was pushing against those walls with stifled laughter, Clarke's hair tangled in her fingers, Lexa's lipstick a work of art across her collarbones.

“I don't really remember that.” A tense pause, the music blasting through their bubble of silence. “So could we maybe do that part again? Try and jog my memory?”

Relief flooded through Clarke, leaving her so giddy that she forgot the circumstances, forgot why she had made an entire apology speech, and leaned forward to press her lips to Lexa's.

 

Everything that followed was instinct: Lexa's arms around Clarke's shoulders, pulling her closer than they'd been in months, letting herself sink into the exhilarating bliss that was kissing Clarke Griffin.

The breath was knocked out of her when Lexa pressed them closer together, and she gratefully pulled Lexa's warm, mint-and-whiskey exhales into her lungs. Clarke began walking backwards, inching the pair closer to the kitchen door and away from the crowd, some of whom had stopped to watch.

“We're gonna fall down the fucking stairs,” Lexa laughed against Clarke's ear, as they made their way up into the house, Clarke trying to hold Lexa's legs crossed around her waist.

“Don't really care,” Clarke whispered.

And they let themselves crash right into the other, tumbling into the fall, already familiar with the way down.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it didn't suck. :)


End file.
